


Normal Again

by round_robin



Series: The Reluctant Alpha [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha Eskel, Alpha Jaskier | Dandelion, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Exhaustion, Exhibitionism, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Oral Sex, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory, Scar Worship, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Scenting, Voyeurism, Witchersexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Wolf Pack, brief mention of attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: If the wider world knew Witchers were not only capable of love, but good at giving it, the Continent would probably collapse on itself with confusion. Everyone thought all Witchers were Alphas anyway, they couldn't imagine the softness of an Omega existing in such a rough shell. But the softness of an Omega Witcher was dwarfed by their protective instincts. While Geralt loved Eskel deeply, he'd gladly walk through fire for any of his brothers.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Other(s)
Series: The Reluctant Alpha [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787779
Comments: 92
Kudos: 650
Collections: Polyamorous Relationships For the Win





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel/prequel to "Strong Enough." All the same dynamics are in play here--Omega Geralt, Alpha Jaskier, Alpha Eskel, Beta Lambert. I highly recommend reading "Strong Enough" before reading this. I did a decent amount of world building in that first fic which comes into play here.
> 
> This is only three chapters and it breaks down like this: a chapter of world building, a sad chapter, and a chapter of just porn. I'm warning you now: chapter 2 will be sad. But chapter 3 will be happier, hold out for that.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and thank you for indulging my A/B/O world building. There are so many problematic parts of that trope and I'm trying to weed out the things I don't like, leaving only the fun stuff. Please enjoy, and let me know if you find a typo, it'll be taken care of.

Geralt walked through the door of a tavern and came to a halt. A familiar scent on the air... a Witcher Alpha. But not just any old Alpha, one of his.

His eyes swept over the room until he saw the familiar black armor and long black hair brooding in a corner. Remus noticed him just as Geralt started making his way across the room. Decades of experience keeping their emotions under wraps, Remus schooled his face into a scowl. Couldn't let the locals see the tinge of desire in his eye as the White Wolf sat in the chair next to him.

“Geralt,” Remus grunted.

“Remus.” He ordered a pint and they settled in, not talking for some time. The tavern was crowded, but this close, Remus could pick Geralt's scent out of the myriad. A few quiet moments to bask in the scent of one of his Omegas did a world of good, bleeding the tension from his body, tension Remus didn't even know was there.

Nice and calm now, Geralt leaned in. “Do you have a room?”

Remus quickly smothered his smile. “Yes.” They finished their drinks and headed upstairs, drawing a few glances. Geralt glared out at the tavern and the humans looked away, their eyes on their meals once again.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Geralt let Remus push him against it, the Alpha burying his face in his neck. He pulled off his gloves and threaded his fingers through dark hair, long and silky like his own. Away from the crowd in the tavern, only now did Geralt smell the tinge of sadness swirling around Remus. “What happened?”

Remus didn't move away, Geralt's calming scent was too good to resist. His fingers tightened on Geralt's hips. “Just got word from Kaer Morhen, Gavin died. Fucking forktail got him through the heart.”

“Fuck.” Geralt held Remus tighter, concentrating all his senses on the wounded Alpha in his arms.

Gavin, another Omega Remus partnered during his heats. When Eskel and Clovis were enough to satisfy Geralt, he'd be free to go to Gavin. While their relationship wasn't quite like what Geralt and Eskel had, there was a bond there, and no Alpha ever wanted to lose an Omega like that.

Geralt held Remus until he moved away. Stripping their armor, they settled in the shitty bed far too small for the two of them. Geralt removed the tie from his hair to spread his scent and pulled at Remus until the Alpha settled on his chest, arms wrapped around him. A half hard cock nudged at his leg but neither of them were interested in sex. He only slept with Eskel outside of heat, and besides, Remus didn't need to be fucked, he needed to be held.

Locked away in a room together, Geralt's presence allowed Remus to let his walls down. If the wider world knew Witchers were not only capable of love, but good at giving it, the Continent would probably collapse on itself with confusion. Everyone thought all Witchers were Alphas anyway, they couldn't imagine the softness of an Omega existing in such a rough shell. But the softness of an Omega Witcher was dwarfed by their protective instincts. While Geralt loved Eskel deeply, he'd gladly walk through fire for any of his brothers.

They parted the next morning, waves of calm rolling off Remus as Geralt watched him ride out of town. He only wished it could last, but the next contract he picked up, Remus would tighten his mind again, focusing on the task in front of him, all Geralt's soothing work forgotten for the moment... As he turned Roach the opposite direction, Geralt made a note to check in with Remus before his heat this winter. After the loss of a beloved Omega, Remus might be too distracted to give Geralt all he needed. It wasn't his fault, but Geralt knew he had to be strong for his Alphas from time to time. It was part of the pack, part of what made their lives a little bit more tolerable, especially during winter.

With winter just a few weeks off, Geralt started towards Kaer Morhen. He wasn't ready to stop taking contracts, but he liked heading in that direction a little early, eager to see his brothers once more. When the air grew cold, he started up the mountain, oh so close to home.

The warm clench in his belly began the second he saw the top of Kaer Morhen's towers through the snowy air. His heat was still a few days off, it wouldn't fully hit until he was safe in the keep, but the warning signs began early enough for him to prepare. The second he stepped through the front doors, the warmth of a dozen fires swirled around him, and the body heat of other Witchers moving around the castle. Geralt closed his eyes and smelled Eskel through the cloud of scents. He breathed deeper, picking out Remus and Clovis as well.

He slid a hand down to his stomach. _Tomorrow, definitely tomorrow._

Halfway up the stairs, he ran into Eskel. Golden eyes lit up and Eskel buried his face in Geralt's neck. They were mostly blocking the staircase, but they didn't care, an old Beta grumbled and pushed around them before Geralt decided to nudge Eskel into action. “Our room, come on,” he whispered.

Once Eskel got the scent of him, it was hard to yank him away. Geralt managed to get them both up the stairs with Eskel's face still attached to his neck, tongue licking under his ear and making everything more difficult. The iron door to their room was already open and Eskel pulled Geralt inside, locking it behind him. Clovis probably smelled him as well, but they all knew the first night was for Eskel and he'd give them their privacy.

Geralt let Eskel kiss and bite at his neck for another moment before shoving him off. “You already took your armor off. Give me a chance to get comfortable.” Firmly in his place, Eskel sat back on their bed and watched Geralt strip.

It was the first ritual of winter: stripping away the trappings of a year on The Path. While the strength of their armor kept a Witcher safe and alive, it wasn't as necessary in winter when they could be open and free. With his armor placed in the corner to be cleaned later, Geralt pulled his tunic over his head, boots, then breeches. Eskel licked his lips, then frowned when the small clothes stayed.

Geralt climbed into bed and shook his head. “Not tonight. You'll start my heat early.” He felt on a hair trigger as it were, Eskel's familiar woodsy scent swirling around him, making Geralt leak a little. He clamped down on his body's natural reaction, schooling it into place. It listened to him, which was a good sign. As soon as he couldn't control his natural response to Eskel's Alpha scent, his heat was well and truly started, and once it began, there was no stopping it.

“Mmm, and why is that so bad?” Eskel wrapped around him, trailing a hand down Geralt's back as they settled in bed for the night. He'd go out in a while and get some food to provide for his Omega, for the moment Eskel wanted to enjoy this stolen time. “Clovis and Remus never mind giving me the first round.”

Geralt shook his head. “I have to talk to Remus before my heat starts, see if he's up for it.”

Eskel's hand on his back stilled. “Right. I heard about Gavin.”

He wasn't too broken when they met on The Path, but returning to the keep and finding Gavin gone might hit harder. For the safety of his other Alphas, Remus might have to sit this year out. Geralt hated to do it, but grief sometimes took over, pushing out other instincts, Alphas who smelled like pack and family might suddenly smell like rivals. He'd check on Remus in the night after Eskel fell asleep, for now... Eskel needed attention as well.

Geralt rolled over on top, pinning him to the bed. He licked up a scarred cheek, treating the broken skin to a little tenderness, something Eskel definitely didn't get from the rest of the world. Most Witchers bore the scars of their trade openly, but Eskel's face was a sore spot. Geralt tried to touch the jagged scars whenever he had the chance, saying with his fingers and tongue what his words couldn't. _You're beautiful, my Alpha, I see your worth even if you can't_.

After a moment, Eskel turned his head to the side, letting Geralt lick and touch to his heart's content. Geralt only tried this when they were alone. Clovis and Remus had seen Eskel in all states of vulnerability—the middle of Geralt's heat, his own rut, fuck, Remus was a few years older and helped Eskel piece himself back together after the trials—yet this was a line too far. Eskel wasn't sure he understood why, but Geralt did, which mattered most.

Once Geralt had licked and nuzzled Eskel's scars until the Alpha was a pile of contented goo, he settled next to him for the moment, making sure he slept soundly before slipping out. Feet bare, shirt and breeches barely buttoned, Geralt made his way down to Remus' room. He passed a few iron doors and heard the sounds of brothers in the throes of their heats, Alphas ready to help them through it. The soft scents of familiarity mixed with heat and a few rut smells, whirling through Geralt and prodding softly at his own building heat. _Tomorrow_ , he reminded his body. The churning in his stomach quieted again.

He knocked on Remus' door before going in. Unlike Geralt and Eskel, Remus shared his room with a Beta. They befriend each other during training and Frank often fetched food for them when Remus was wrapped around Gavin. Their beds pushed against opposite walls of their chamber, Geralt sniffed and knew Frank wasn't in yet, he'd probably arrive tomorrow, ready to pull Remus out of whatever low Gavin's loss left him in.

Standing in the middle of the room, methodically sorting through his equipment, Remus didn't look up. “I'm fine, Geralt.”

Geralt leaned against the door frame. While he longed to go comfort his Alpha, he knew when to stay back. Finding emotional space in a castle so crammed full of Witchers was difficult, so he gave Remus what space he could. “Fine enough for a heat? I'm starting to think maybe not.”

Remus' fingers stilled, halting their exploration for one last lost crossbow bolt. His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. “I think you might be right.” The loss of Gavin... everything inside Remus urged him to cling to Geralt now, make sure he never lost another Omega. If those feelings appeared in the middle of a heat, it might lead to a fight, and the last thing Remus wanted was to take a chunk out of Eskel or Clovis with Geralt writhing with need between them all.

“Spend time with Frank when he gets in, he'll take care of you.” Geralt pulled his tunic off and threw it at Remus. “Make him wear that, if it helps.”

Crushing the garment to his face, Remus nodded. “Thank you.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Don't break Eskel and Clovis tomorrow, alright?”

“I'll try not to.” Geralt left Remus to it, making a note to check on him again after his heat broke.

On the floors below, Geralt heard the shifting in the training dormitories as he walked back to his room. Young Witchers in training, some of them fresh from a first heat or rut, were restless with more and more Alphas and Omegas filling the castle for winter, and too few Betas to even it all out. The smell was intoxicating, everyone mixed together, still smelling a little distinct before all melding back into the pack scent. He remembered hating the winters when he was in training, all those delicious smells he wasn't allowed to go near, but the wait was more than worth it. If a boy made it through training, survived the trials, earned his eyes and his medallion, a whole world of pack and belonging and pleasure opened up.

He opened the door to their room and Eskel opened one sleepy eye, long arm splayed across the other side of the bed. “Where'd you go?” he mumbled, pulling Geralt back into the bed.

Geralt wrapped a hand around the back of Eskel's neck and licked the hollow of his throat. “Checking on Remus. Just you and Clovis for my heat tomorrow.”

“Mmm, good to know.” Eskel leaned back and let Geralt lick him like a pup, enjoying the tenderness they never got in their youth. “Clovis and I will work extra hard for you.”

Geralt's heat started before dawn. Eskel had just enough presence of mind to stick his head out the door and shout for Clovis before Geralt pulled him down again, teeth and nails scrapping and clawing as the burning under his skin built to an inferno. The salt and sea air smell of Clovis flooded the room and he locked the door behind him, stripping and mumbling a quick greeting before falling in place behind Eskel. He held his hips tight as Geralt's body pulled him in, already demanding almost more than Eskel had to give.

The world narrowed down to their bed, Geralt lost in a fog. There was a definite gap in the room, one scent missing from the miasma of Eskel's woodsy musk and Clovis' salty brine... Geralt's mind reached out to try and find Remus cool and solid like steel over a whetstone, but came up empty. Eskel and Clovis did their best to distract him, kissing with more fervor, more passion than usual, biting just a little harder to make Geralt _feel_. It worked and soon he was so lost in pleasure, Geralt couldn't count the number of hands touching him, all he knew was someone was in his hole and kissing his mouth at all times. It was all he needed to get through the next five days.

The few times an exhausted Clovis slid behind Eskel to hold him through a particularly rough knot—where Geralt clamped down for longer, muscle contractions sucking more and more from the Alpha—Eskel still had the presence of mind to slide his fingers along Geralt's bottom lip before pushing two into that wanting mouth, pressing down on his tongue, filling his Omega as much as possible.

Day two, day three, Geralt wasn't sure when the knock on his door came. Eskel was together enough to answer while Clovis napped behind Geralt, both of them still locked together. Frank entered the room and the small amount of alert in Eskel's scent disappeared at the Beta's presence.

Frank knelt next to the bed and brushed a hand through Geralt's sweaty hair. “Remus wanted me to tell you he's doing better. Do you need him?” This was a question for Clovis and Eskel as much as for Geralt. Introducing another Alpha in the middle of a heat was tricky, even a familiar one.

“We've got him,” Eskel said.

Geralt nodded. “It's fine, he doesn't need to worry about me.” Frank got up to leave but Geralt reached out and pulled the Beta in close. Eskel took a step towards the bed but Geralt held him back with a look, before returning his attention. He cupped Frank's face and rubbed up the side of his neck, spreading his heat scent. “Let Remus scent you while you smell like me. It'll make him feel like he fulfilled his duty.”

Frank smirked, nipping at Geralt's ear before pulling away. “I'll let him do a lot more than just scent me...”

Energized by the competitive instinct Frank flared in him, Eskel locked the door and crawled back into the bed, wrapping a hand around Geralt's cock and kissing him deeply as Clovis started to wake behind him. His knot went down a moment later and Eskel was up, Clovis resuming his nap at the foot of the bed, hand petting Geralt's leg in his sleep.

When Geralt's heat finally broke, Clovis bid them farewell and staggered back to his own room to sleep for the next twelve hours. Despite days of closeness, Eskel remained stuck to Geralt like a barnacle, only leaving the White Wolf's side when Geralt requested food. He carried back as much cheese and bread as he could reasonably steal from the larder, and they both sat in bed enjoying their last few hours of freedom.

Tomorrow morning, after they were clean and no longer stinking of sex, they were expected to attend training and help around the keep. There were chores to be done, needed repairs, and Eskel always got dragged down to demonstrate Signs for the new boys. “You're the best, Eskel, fucking get over it and burn those little shits' eyebrows off,” Master Varin growled. True, they had more freedom in winter than the training boys did, but a Witchers' work was never done, not even in their own home.

As he settled into the rhythm of winter, Geralt found himself lingering at the edge of the stairs at night, listening to the boys in the dormitories below. He wasn't sure what he was listening for. As morbid as it seemed, he tried not to get to know any of the new boys until after they returned from their first season. So many Witchers died their first year on The Path, a class of thirty often dwindled to twelve by the first winter. Those who survived usually lasted, only then did Geralt start to get closer. It sounded callous but it was for the protection of the pack above all. The last thing anyone needed was a distressed Omega grieving for an Alpha who never made it back, at the moment, Geralt was barely keeping it together whenever he thought of Remus and Gavin...

A few days later, Geralt caught a scent on the air—peppercorns, sharp and almost spicy—and whirled around, following it. He knew that smell, knew who it belonged to. His eyes landed on a head of black hair and a patchy beard covering a sneer and it all clicked together. Lambert. A few winters ago, Vesemir sent Geralt and Eskel out to find the teenager. The elders didn't care about most runaways—they came back on their own or they died—but Vesemir was the one to drag Lambert through Kaer Morhen's gates in the first place and he took a special interest in the feral little beast. Considering Vesemir also took an interest in Geralt and Eskel during their training, the old Omega seemed to have good instincts.

Lambert was a Beta, if Geralt remembered correctly, though he was hot tempered enough to be an Alpha. Geralt spent the next few days watching him during training and he appeared to cool in the past few years since he and Eskel dragged him home. Fresh yellow eyes caught him and glared. Geralt just raised an eyebrow. Did a pup without a medallion really think he could intimidate an Omega? Specifically, an Omega like Geralt of Rivia?

That night after dinner, Geralt kept an eye on Lambert in the dining hall. He was with the older boys, almost ready to face their first season on The Path, only a few more months of teachings between them and the final test of life... Once again, Lambert caught Geralt looking and stood up from the table, storming out of the dining hall. Geralt climbed to his feet and pat Eskel on the shoulder. “I'll be back.”

Eskel didn't ask any questions, Geralt knew what he was doing. He did scent the air a little and follow him out of the hall with his eyes. All would be revealed later, he supposed.

In the darkened corridors, Geralt sniffed after Lambert. “Why are you following me?” Lambert growled. He stepped out of a staircase, arms crossed over his chest, trying his best to look menacing. “I thought you Omegas didn't look at the trainees until we proved ourselves? What did I do to deserve such magnanimous attention?”

The little shit. Geralt let that slide and stepped into Lambert's space, allowing his scent to curl through the air. A few weeks out of heat, it was back to its normal muted levels, but Lambert definitely felt it. He bit his lip, and his heart fluttered before he got it back under control. As hot headed as he was, even Lambert wasn't stupid enough to challenge an Omega.

Geralt swept in closer, curling a hand around the back of Lambert's neck and pressing his nose under his chin, right against his adam's apple. “What the fuck—” Lambert tried to stagger back but Geralt's iron grip held him in place. “What do you want from me?”

“Mmm...” Geralt dragged his nose up and down that scruffy neck, getting the scent of peppercorns deep in his lungs before pulling away. “Just had to make sure you were the same runaway pup me and Eskel brought back a few years ago. You didn't have your eyes then. Didn't recognize you.”

“Yeah, the old man sent you to bring me back. What's it to you? Ack!”

Geralt fisted a hand in Lambert's hair, pulling his neck back at an odd angle. Not painful, not comfortable either. “You're right, Omegas don't invest until you come back from The Path, but I set my eye on you the day I had to go find you up that fucking tree.” When they tracked him down, he was fifty feet up a hundred foot pine tree. Eskel was too fucking solid to climb trees without snapping every branch, and Geralt refused to, so they had to _convince_ him to come down. It took hours in the cold and Geralt promised he'd never let Lambert get away with shit like that again, because he'd be the one to go get him.

“You better not disappoint.” He released his hold and Lambert staggered back, all his bluster gone, sneer still in place. “Get to bed.” Geralt shoved him towards the stairs and listened until his chamber door slammed before returning to the dining hall.

Eskel sat waiting for him and pushed a plate of food in front of Geralt as soon as he sat down. Caring Alphas always made sure their Omegas were fed, and Eskel was nothing if not a caring Alpha. “What was that about? You're checking on Lambert?”

Geralt shrugged and ate his food. “Vesemir made us bring him back a few years ago. I wanted to see how he was shaping up since. Why?” He arched and eyebrow, leaning in just enough for Eskel to catch his scent. “Jealous?”

A low growl rumbled from Eskel's chest and he wrapped an arm around Geralt's hips. “Maybe.”

“You shouldn't be.” Geralt slid closer, half climbing into his lap. Another Alpha sitting on Eskel's other side glared at them and moved away. Geralt dropped his lips to Eskel's ear. “Wanna call it an early night?”

In response, Eskel pushed Geralt off his lap and pulled them both to their feet. They were out of the dining hall and up in their room before anyone noticed they were gone. Geralt let Eskel's experienced fingers strip him, kissing and licking whatever piece of his Alpha he could find. Teeth scraped his neck and they both shivered. Some nights, Geralt longed for Eskel to mark him, make it official. But they didn't work like that, _Witchers_ didn't work like that, they belonged to the pack, not a single man. So no matter how much he longed to feel Eskel's teeth bite deep into his soul, it wasn't really something he really wanted, not outside of the errant fantasy.

His slick started flowing and Geralt concentrated enough to turn it into a fountain. He spread his legs and Eskel moaned. “You're fucking dripping,” he sighed into Geralt's neck.

“Yes, all for you.” Clovis and Remus only joined them for heats, he was Eskel's alone for the rest of winter. “Are you going to please your Omega?”

“Fuck yes.” Eskel settled between Geralt's legs and the head of his thick cock brushed his hole. He slid inside like they were made for each other and thrust deep, knot already starting to fill. Geralt licked up his neck, over his ear, then bit down on the soft tissue. Some Omegas didn't like sex outside of heat—they just wanted to be left the fuck alone—but Geralt loved it. The slide of Eskel's skin against his own, both of them drenched in sweat and slick, kissing and biting, tasting everything. It was glorious, well worth the wait for winter each year.

With Eskel's cock twitching inside him, Geralt never felt so complete. They were like night and day, Eskel the sun, Geralt the moon, no two better suited for one another... “Eskel,” he gasped. “Give me your knot.”

“Yes, Omega.” It was impossible to ignore such a request. Thrusting hard, Eskel's knot pushed past the resistant muscle, settling inside Geralt and holding them together. Geralt's body took over, coming hard and contracting around Eskel, urging more and more come to fill the infertile Omega. Biology was stupid, but it's what they needed right now.

A long moment passed and Eskel collapsed on top of Geralt. He tried to roll them over to a more comfortable position to wait out the knot, but Geralt held him still, curling his fingers in sweaty hair. “I want to feel you everywhere,” he whispered as his ass clenched again, drawing a weak moan from Eskel.

Twenty minutes later, his knot went down and he rolled away, taking a few gulps of air before climbing to shaking feet and wetting a cloth in the washbasin. After they were clean, Eskel dove into the bed and fell asleep, Geralt's fingers scratching through his hair.

Geralt didn't fall asleep after sex, not right away. His mind was too alert and active, listening to Eskel's heartbeat, scanning through the sounds of the castle... A harsh cry met his ears and Geralt got up from the bed. He padded down the corridor in bare feet and breeches, chest naked and marked by Eskel's teeth. Another cry, more muffled this time and Geralt turned towards its location. A deep pull in his chest drew him towards the dormitories.

He didn't know which room was Lambert's but as soon as he pushed open a door, he knew he had the right one. Yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, the smell of peppercorns and the acrid stink of fear on the air. Lambert's roommate slept on at the other side of the room. Most boys learned to sleep through the nightmares of others fast.

Lambert didn't say a word as Geralt approached and sat on his bed. He leaned into Geralt's hand petting his hair, a small sigh escaping his lips. Geralt let his scent fill the air around them, not enough to wake Lambert's roommate, but enough to calm him after whatever nightmare just flickered behind his eyes. “Which trial was it?” he whispered.

“None of them,” Lambert said after a moment. “It was my father. When he—”

“You don't need to tell me.” Geralt guided Lambert's head onto his thigh, one hand carding through his hair, the other stroking down his back. So unused to a kind touch, Lambert pressed into Geralt with his whole body, curling around him, the brash young wolf from before gone for the moment.

“Why are you paying attention to me?” he asked. “You Omegas don't... you don't care until we have our medallions. Mine's still a few months off.”

Geralt hummed. “Mmm, maybe I see something in you. Maybe I think you're going to come back.” Geralt felt it in his bones, in that deep down way some Omegas just _knew_. It was the same feeling when he met Eskel during training, a spark that this boy was important and Geralt wanted to be around him. There was that same simmer under his skin when he looked at Lambert. Witchers didn't have many human instincts left—they ran towards monsters instead of away—but when it came to the other Wolves, Geralt knew which brothers were merely another face in the dining hall, and which brothers he could trust wholly and completely.

One thing was for certain, this young Wolf would make it back from The Path, and Geralt was going to be there when he did.


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt would not tell Eskel he was unsatisfied. What use was it to break his last Alpha's heart when they couldn't change it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sad chapter. Regarding mentions of attempted suicide: it's very brief for me, but I understand if some people want to stay away from it. That passage is in the second paragraph, then never again.
> 
> Please enjoy, let me know if you find a typo and it'll be seen to <3

Returning to Kaer Morhen the next winter was... difficult. Vesemir cleared away the signs of the battle as best as possible after they gave their brothers a proper send off, but he couldn't make everything disappear. They all still saw it—scars in the stone, the gate mechanism half destroyed and hastily rebuilt, walls that crumbled under the weight of a Sign from a brother who wasn't quite quick enough—and that first winter was the hardest any of them had ever spent, including the terrible years of their training.

Lambert had it the worst. Fresh out of training, he had more brothers to lose, watched more friends cut down in front of his eyes. More than once, Geralt ventured out at night to find him standing on the broken ramparts, ready to jump off. His emotions flayed, body raw, Geralt barely mustered enough strength to push his calming scent into the air to pull Lambert off the edge. He always managed and took Lambert back to their room, wrapping them together with Eskel.

Geralt didn't go into heat that first winter, the trauma too deep. It was a relief at first, he didn't have to demand much from Eskel while they were all grieving. They spent the winter wrapped around Geralt, Eskel holding tight to Lambert like he would any Alpha Geralt picked. They were all they had left now.

The next winter was... worse. In a different way.

On his way up the mountain, he felt the beginnings of heat bubbling in his stomach. _Tomorrow_ , he told himself, willing his body to cooperate like he always did. The bubbling lessened, but didn't stop. Geralt breathed deeply, pushing away that need. It did not go away, not entirely.

Eskel was waiting for him in the front hall when he arrived. Geralt threw his arms wide and pulled him in, letting Eskel lick and suck at his throat. It was a little more intimate than their usual meetings in the front hall, but they both needed it. The empty halls were too empty and the least Geralt could do for Eskel (and later Lambert, once he tracked down the prickly bastard) was cover them with his scent, calming what was left of his pack.

Only... there was suddenly far too much of Geralt's scent. Eskel growled into his skin and slick started pouring down his leg. He tried to clamp down on his body—it was too soon, his stupid biology needed to listen to him. “Geralt, what—” Eskel panted.

Cramping, churning pain rippled through Geralt's stomach and he almost doubled over, clinging to Eskel. A few heat cramps were one thing, and they usually stopped with an Alpha this close to steady his control, but the pain continued to spiral through him, blood boiling beneath his skin. “Eskel, I don't—what,” he stammered.

Eskel took a deep breath and let out a shuddering exhale. “Your heat's starting.” Still pressed against Geralt, Eskel dragged him towards the stairs.

“No—tomorrow! It's supposed to be tomorrow!” Geralt protested but allowed himself to be pulled. Fighting Eskel right now seemed as difficult as fighting a mountain.

“Well, it's happening now.” Eskel hung on by the smallest of threads. If any more slick spilled out of Geralt he was going to strip him in the front hall. There were too many clothes between them, Geralt still carrying all his bags and gear, Eskel struggled to get him up the stairs though his own blinding lust.

“Eskel—” Lambert's voice behind him. He turned and growled, hands holding tighter to Geralt. Lambert held his hands up and stepped back. His cock was hard, the long line of it distending the front of his breeches, but his voice was soft and calming, probably the only calm Lambert had ever had. “I won't touch him unless he wants. Let me help you get to his room.”

Geralt rutted against him, adding another layer of distraction. Eskel's eyes rolled back into his head and a firm hand yanked at his belt, pulling them the rest of the way up the stairs. “Come on, that's a good Alpha,” Lambert whispered. “Just a few more steps.”

The iron door was locked, and with Geralt and Eskel biting and trying to strip one another, they were going to be no help whatsoever. Eskel pinned Geralt to the door and rutted against him, both of them so truly lost in the building heat. Despite the distracting smell, Lambert grabbed Geralt's wrist and slid his key out of the secret pocket in his glove, unlocking the door. Eskel started to growl, the sound dying away as Lambert threw the door open and pushed them both inside.

The door slammed and Lambert staggered back, shaking from head to toe. The key dropped from his hand and Vesemir appeared from around a corner, grabbing it from the floor before leaning in close. “Well done, young wolf, you did very well.”

“H-how—I didn't, no one told me—” Smelling an Omega in heat through a few floors of stone was intolerable. Or so Lambert thought. Being so close for the first time, Lambert felt it in his guts, so much more than just a smell. Geralt was like a force, pulling him in. Eskel was helpless to resist, but Lambert knew he couldn't get too close and hung back. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he managed.

“I know,” Vesemir said. “After you returned from your first year on The Path, someone would have explained... That didn't happen.”

Still shaking, Lambert climbed to his feet and took the key when Vesemir offered it. “What do I need to do?”

“Bring them food, water. Maybe leave it outside for the first few days, no idea how Eskel will react without another Alpha around to share his burden.” Vesemir sighed, staring at the simple iron door, once the symbol of an Omega's right to choose who he shared his heat with, now a grim reminder that only Eskel remained. It didn't matter if he was strong enough to handle Geralt on his own, they didn't have a choice. If Eskel asked for Lambert's assistance... Well, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

“Maybe sleep in Eskel's room, get his scent on you so it isn't so bad if you have to go in.” Lambert nodded and hung his head, turning down the hall. Vesemir caught his arm and pulled him back, holding his youngest to his chest for a moment. “The battle isn't done, probably never will be. This is just one more hurtle we have to jump. Geralt needs you as much as he needs Eskel, don't let them down.” He brushed his cheek against Lambert's before letting him go.

Down the hall in Eskel's room, Lambert made sure to put Geralt's key in a safe place before undressing. His skin hummed, cock throbbing from being so close to Geralt's scent. All his life, the scent of everyone around him was so muted outside of winter, a result of the mutations. Witchers all more or less smelled the same: friend not foe, easy to pick an ally out of a crowd. That's all they needed, or so Lambert was told...

He didn't know if the new intensity in Geralt and Eskel's smells was from the trauma of the pack being ripped away, or if that's just what happened during heat. The fanatics attacked a few weeks before Lambert was supposed to set out on The Path for the first time, and if he made it back, Vesemir said he had more lessons to learn. He supposed learning them as they came was better than not at all.

Skin bare, he climbed into Eskel's bed. His Alpha scent was heavy here and instead of provoking competition, it just made Lambert harder. He wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking, tuning his ears to the ragged, almost pained groans coming from down the hall. Vesemir didn't say it out loud (he didn't have to) but there was a chance that Geralt might be too much for Eskel alone. They might need Lambert's knot-less cock to help sate him long enough for Eskel to recover. Fire tingled down Lambert's skin at the thought and he stroked faster. All the same, he hoped Eskel was enough. He didn't need another dead brother.

~

Geralt's nails raked down Eskel's shoulders, teeth biting his lips. He felt none of it, all other sensation paled in comparison to the slick muscles gripping his cock like a vice lined with silk. The first round was usually short, but Geralt clamped down on that knot for almost an hour afterwards, which is why Eskel liked to take him from behind to start... But after a long season on The Path, the memories of fanatics pouring into their home still fresh behind his eyes, he needed to see Geralt, look at him and know he was still there. Climbing between his legs, Eskel thrust all the way in. If he had his way, he'd never leave.

Geralt quieted a little as soon as Eskel's cock slid home. His teeth latched onto a soft earlobe, sucking a little too hard. “Eskel,” he grunted and tilted his hips to get that cock right where he needed it. “Can you—without?” _Without the others_ , he didn't want to say.

“I have to,” Eskel whispered back. “Now shush, I'll take care of you.”

Eskel's knot filled out and he thrust in hard. Geralt keening and locking them together. It didn't take long to push Geralt to the first of many peaks. The quivering of his inner muscles were the only warning and Eskel had mere seconds to brace himself. Geralt clamped down again, sucking Eskel's climax out of him. He came and came, trying to thrust as much as possible with Geralt's vice grip on him.

A brief second of panic flared through him and Eskel flashed back to their first heat together—he thought Geralt might kill him that day, but Remus' soft words helped him through it. _What are your instincts telling you?_ Eskel dropped his head onto Geralt's shoulder and let his instincts take over, giving himself over completely.

Geralt usually hung onto the first knot for an hour, but it seemed longer this time. The second he released Eskel, he rolled away, trying to breathe what little fresh air in the room didn't smell like fucking. But Geralt rolled with him, straddling Eskel's hips. “Please, I need—I'm sorry.” The cracked, ragged moan made Eskel's heart ache.

Though he really wanted a break—Clovis usually took the next round—Eskel's cock was still hard. If Geralt needed it, he would give it. He nodded and placed his hands on Geralt's hips, moving him to the correct spot. “You can have. It's alright. Take what you need.”

Geralt sunk down and they both groaned, exhaustion already creeping in. _Only four or five days_ , Eskel thought to himself as Geralt squeezed around him. He could last four or five days. He didn't have a choice.

Eskel woke the next morning wrapped around Geralt's sweaty back. They threw all the loose blankets and furs onto the floor in the night but they were both still drenched with sweat, Geralt's fire catching to Eskel. He had precious few moments before Geralt woke and demanded more and Eskel let his instincts take over once again. His stomach growled—food. He must provide for his Omega.

Stumbling out of bed, he made it to the door but had no plan after that. He threw the door open and sniffed the air, trying to smell his way to the kitchen. Before he got very far, the scent of fresh bread jerked his gaze down. A basket with water, bread and a few other easily consumable portions sat right outside the door. He snatched it up and went back inside as Geralt started to stir.

He smelled slick on the air and his cock twitched to life in response. “Eskel,” Geralt whined.

“In a moment. Eat first.” With the half-theredness of a midnight trip to piss in the woods, Eskel tore hunks of bread and fed them to Geralt, shoving some in his own mouth as well. They finished all three water skins before Geralt's heat flared again and pulled them both down. Eskel rolled them over and shoved in from behind. It was a little rougher than he wanted to treat his Omega, but Geralt pushed back harder, grinding down, grabbing hold of as much of Eskel's cock as possible.

And so it went. Eskel fucked Geralt non-stop until they were both too exhausted and passed out, then woke to start again. They found food outside the door a few more times and ate as much as they could before Geralt's heat spiked. Geralt lost track of time. His skin continued to burn despite the Alpha smell covering him. Not enough Alpha was the problem, only two hands when he should have six touching him, adoring him, cooling the fire inside.

He woke from a fitful sleep a little bleary, but mostly rested. His body clenched around nothing, his guts churning and Geralt tried not to whine. “Eskel... I need...”

For days, Eskel responded immediately. He pushed up close, cock already in Geralt's hole before he finished begging. He smelled Eskel nearby, but he didn't answer Geralt's call. He rolled over and found Eskel asleep next to him, his breath shallow and irregular. He quieted his mind long enough to listen for a heart beat... Erratic, and too fast. He wasn't regulating it. A Witcher could regulate their heart in their sleep.

Terror surged through Geralt. Hands became claws as he shook Eskel, trying to wake him. “Lambert!” he shouted. “Vesemir! Clovis! Remus! Someone!” _Those names..._ in the haze of panic, Geralt cried out for the dead, whom Eskel might be among in a few minutes.

The key scraped the lock on his door and it burst open, Lambert white as a sheet. “Move!”

Geralt scrambled to the other end of the bed, giving Lambert room to get to Eskel. He ran his hands through brown hair, down his face and stopping at his neck. “Lambert—” Geralt's voice cracked in pain. “I killed him, I—”

“Shut up, Geralt!” Lambert snapped and nodded towards Geralt's gear. “Get me a Swallow. Now!”

Geralt stumbled out of bed, grabbing for his bags. All his gear was still packed, he didn't have time to organize his shit before heat took over and now it might kill Eskel. He patted down every pocket until he found his potions, pulling a Swallow out on the first try. Lambert yanked it out of his hand and uncorked it, upending the bottle into Eskel's mouth.

Weak muscles swallowed the familiar liquid and Eskel's eyes fluttered open. “Oh, thank fuck.” Lambert allowed relief to flood through him for a moment before focusing on his role again: take care of the Alpha so he could take care of the Omega. Potion empty, Lambert looked into Eskel's eyes, seeing if they dilated correctly. “C'mon, Eskel, talk to me.”

“Ge-Geralt,” Eskel's ragged, fatigued voice whispered. “Is Geralt alright?”

“I'm here.” Geralt slid up next to Lambert, his hands all over Eskel. The slight toxicity brought on by the potion soured Eskel's scent and did some to quell his heat for the moment, that and the terror. He still only had eyes for Eskel, but for now, his body was quiet. “Eskel, I'm so sorry. You need to go. I'll ride out the rest on my own.”

“No.” Eskel pushed against Lambert, but he was too weak to really fight. “I can, we can keep going.”

“No,” Lambert growled. “You're out for this round. Maybe out until the morning.” Lambert wasn't about to force Eskel from the room all together—that was Geralt's decision—but he was damn sure going to make Eskel sit at the end of the bed and fucking sleep. He'd tie him down if he had to.

With Eskel conscious again, another gush of slick pushed out of Geralt. He didn't want it, he wanted to look after Eskel, comfort him, take care of him after fucking him to literal exhaustion, but his body wasn't interested in his opinion. With Eskel flaccid, his eyes slid to Lambert's cock, hard and leaking and right there. “Eskel, I need Lambert. Please, let me have Lambert.”

A sudden strength surged through him and Eskel lunged at Lambert, pushing him off the bed and twisting his arm behind his back. “ _My_ Omega!” he growled.

The pressure at his shoulder wasn't great, but it was manageable. Lambert slipped out of the hold and drew Eskel to his chest, holding tight until the fight drained out of him. He threw him back onto the bed and swept in close to hold him down. “Geralt wants me,” he snapped. “What does that mean? What is your duty, Alpha?”

Eskel hung his head, defeated. “Give him whatever he wants.”

“That's right.” With Eskel's protests squashed, Lambert crawled into bed, taking a moment to rub himself against Eskel, showing him he was still important here. “Geralt needs you in one piece,” he whispered as he kissed up Eskel's neck. “You don't want to disappoint him, do you?”

“No. I don't.”

They let Lambert arrange them, Eskel's body soft and pliant, drained of energy, Geralt longing for another cock to fill him. But though his face contorted in lust, sad eyes lingered on Eskel. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

Lambert spooned up behind Geralt, making sure Eskel was in his arms before pushing in. The tight satisfied clench deep in his gut was almost enough to distract him from the rest of his duty. “Fuck, this is an Omega?” He and Leo had sex, he got a hand from the others in his training group, or he sampled a sweet mouth a time or two. None of that compared to this. The all consuming tug pulling everything inside of Lambert towards Geralt was overwhelming. It took all his willpower not to come on the spot. In front of him, Geralt's attention was fully on Eskel, trailing kisses up his scars, fingers combing through his hair, neither giving a single care for Lambert. Good, he didn't want them to see how close he was to breaking apart...

Lambert stayed with them for the rest of Geralt's heat. With no knot, when Geralt clamped down, pain spiraled through the pleasure; Eskel had come around enough to press behind him and guide him through it like Remus did for him all those years ago. “Don't fight it,” he whispered. “If you try to pull back, he'll tug harder. Breathe through it... you're doing so well...”

The next time Geralt passed out, Eskel curled around Lambert for a moment, rubbing his nose through his hair. “Thank you. I'm sorry I tried to push you away. I'm never going to be enough for him again...”

“Don't say that.” It was true, but hearing it out loud... Lambert didn't like the sadness in Eskel's voice. They had too much sadness of late, it was time to stop. “We can be enough. I'll help, whatever I can do. It's what Betas are for.”

Eskel grabbed Lambert's bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on the delicate skin. “Thank you. Thank you...”

Geralt's heat didn't come the next year, and the year after was intense, but not as bad. He settled into a more or less regular cycle. Every other winter, he clawed for Eskel, Lambert right behind to make sure they were both taken care of. It never compared to the satisfaction Geralt felt with three Alphas, and when his heat finally burned out, there was always one last ember lingering until the next one came. He would not tell Eskel he was unsatisfied. What use was it to break his last Alpha's heart when they couldn't change it?

But he knew, he had to. There was at least one more incident where Eskel pushed himself too far and Lambert had to shove a Swallow down his throat to revive him. Geralt hated his body for how much he took from Eskel, but he couldn't make it stop. Not until he met a bard in a tavern in Posada.


	3. The New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a solid week of “forced” togetherness, they pretended to go to their separate rooms and have a night alone. But without fail, first Eskel would crawl into Geralt's bed, the sheets still stinking of heat, and kiss Jaskier before falling asleep at Geralt's side. Then Lambert trudged in before dawn, curling up on Geralt's chest. Geralt sniffed his hair and gave him a soft lick before falling back asleep, surrounded by his pack once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And welcome to the porn chapter. It's a nice reward for making it through the strange sadness of this fic, but after the world building I did in the first fic, I couldn't just not show them fresh from the trauma of losing the rest of their pack...
> 
> Also, this is a series now, mostly to corral these two fics together. I'm not planning to add too much to it (maybe just another one shot) and it definitely won't become epic like The Exaltation of Wolves, but I'm keeping my options open. If you find a typo, let me know and I'll fix it.
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank you for reading <3

Geralt's heat came every winter now. Not right away as it used to, he didn't feel it building as they climbed the mountain, and once he felt it start, he was helpless to stop it. He supposed a small lack of control was a good price to pay for a little normalcy.

Once he settled into a regular cycle, he became less frantic, able to luxuriate in the feel of Eskel thrusting into him while Jaskier mouthed at his cock instead of desperately scratching for more. Lambert stayed with them most of the time, touching or massaging Geralt when his muscles ached, or simply lounging by the fire to pull Eskel or Jaskier when they needed a rest and were too focused on Geralt to realize it.

After a solid week of “forced” togetherness, they pretended to go to their separate rooms and have a night alone. But without fail, first Eskel would crawl into Geralt's bed, the sheets still stinking of heat, and kiss Jaskier before falling asleep at Geralt's side. Then Lambert trudged in before dawn, curling up on Geralt's chest. Geralt sniffed his hair and gave him a soft lick before falling back asleep, surrounded by his pack once again.

Just because Lambert stayed with them now did not mean Geralt didn't give him special attention on his own for a few nights. In fact, after the post-heat funk lifted from them all, Jaskier moved his things to Eskel's room automatically. They liked to pretend it was some huge favor they were doing him, “Oh Geralt, you know how much I love you, I must to spend time in such close quarters with another Alpha...” Jaskier pretended to swoon.

Eskel caught him and put in an equally dramatic performance. “Yes, and you must know my love runs deep, as I'll take this strange Alpha into my chambers at your request.”

“Oh, will you two shut up?” Lambert slammed the door in their faces and rolled his eyes at the sound of their laughter out in the hall. “Thought they'd never leave.” He turned back to the bed and tried to lay down, only to have Geralt plant a bare foot on his chest, pushing him back a few paces.

Lambert's brain stalled for a moment. “May I enter, Omega?” Lambert didn't think he remembered the old customs, so that was a bit of a surprise. Not as surprising as Geralt right now. They didn't do _permission_ , not like they had in the old days when a Beta would request access to an Alpha or an Omega's room to pass a cold night. Lambert was simply always invited to join Geralt and Eskel (and now Jaskier) he didn't need to ask.

Geralt held his eyes and slid his foot off Lambert's chest, confident he'd stay where Geralt put him. He moved to the edge of the bed and pulled Lambert between his spread knees, one hand splayed across the small of his back, the other squeezing one firm ass cheek. Geralt ran his hands over Lambert's skin for a long moment, appreciating the bumps and dips of his body as well as his scars, always tender and soft when they touched. Lambert's cock was already half hard when he kicked the others out, but now it was filled and heavy, bobbing so close to Geralt's juicy lips. And yet, Geralt still didn't pull him into bed.

“May I enter, Omega?” he panted, Geralt's fingers stroking down the flat of his stomach, stopping _just_ before touching his cock.

“Mmm, not yet,” Geralt said. One hand roved all over Lambert's skin, but the others stayed resting on his ass, fingers moving ever so to slide down his crack. Lambert gasped when Geralt brushed over his hole. “May _I_ enter?” he purred.

Lambert chuckled, then moaned as Geralt bit lightly at his stomach. “Sure, why not?”

Geralt's hand moved long enough to fetch their oil. When his hand latched onto Lambert's ass again, two slick fingers gently circled his hole, drawing a gasp. “Stay still,” Geralt whispered when Lambert's hands twitched to touch him. “Be good for me.”

When Lambert stilled, arms hanging at his sides, Geralt nodded to himself. Pressing the tips of his fingers inside—just enough to tease—he wrapped his other hand around the base of Lambert's cock and opened his mouth. He moaned around the heavy length against his tongue and Lambert shivered. It didn't bother him that Geralt used him to fill the needs that Alphas often overlooked—oral sex was never an Alpha's first priority, not with biology telling them their cock only belonged in one hole—and Geralt's talented mouth made up for any hurt feelings Lambert might have about being second string. Geralt liked a cock in a lot of other places: his mouth, his hand, between his thighs, and Lambert was there to fulfill those desires, no problem.

With just the tips of his fingers stretching Lambert's hole, he could tell Geralt was in a mood to tease tonight. He could hardly wait.

Geralt took Lambert deep into his throat as he slid deeper into his ass. He groaned, rolling his hips and Geralt pulled off. “Ah, ah, what did I say? Be good.” When Lambert had himself under control again, the mouth returned, sucking him in again.

The rough pads of sword calloused fingers brushed his prostate and Lambert bit down on his tongue so hard, he thought he tasted blood. Witcher Omegas were used to being listened to, everyone in the pack obeyed, so when Geralt said _be good_ , Lambert better fucking be good and let him do whatever he wanted.

After a few merciless strokes against his prostate and Geralt's wet mouth sucking him in so deep, Lambert's balls tightened. “Fuck, Geralt—I'm gonna... fuck...”

He came with a groan and Geralt gladly swallowed, the movement squeezing a few last drops from Lambert's cock. He tried to stay up, tried not to flop forwards when all his muscles wanted to crumple into a heap, but Geralt was there to catch him, guiding him down to the bed and tucking Lambert in tight against his chest.

When Lambert's mind came back to him, a soft tongue lapped at the sweat on his neck, scenting him as Geralt licked him. While normally, he'd be inclined to grumble about the Omega treating him like a pup, Lambert was quite happy to stay right where he was and receive the attention. When Geralt finished licking the sweat from his neck, he sighed. “Thank you. What did we do?”

There was a point to Geralt's little test. _Be good, listen to what you're told_... they fucked up somewhere and Geralt was getting ready to put them all back in their place. Lambert was receptive enough, and he looked forward to watching what Geralt did to Eskel and Jaskier. Both proud Alphas who turned to mush as soon as Geralt looked their way. If they angered him, they'd move mountains to make it right.

Geralt rearranged them, settling Lambert between his thighs and opening his legs. He smelled Geralt's slick, he was so close... but he held back, like Geralt wanted. It was the right move because Geralt purred. “I heard Eskel growl at Jaskier. And you didn't break them apart. You know you have to haul Jaskier out if they start snapping.”

Lambert groaned. Stupid Eskel and his random possessive streaks. Two winters of nothing, then Jaskier approaches from his blind spot _once_ and he gets them all in trouble. “They made up.” It was a weak argument and he knew it. “He let Jaskier stick his tongue down his throat while he was knot deep inside you. Couldn't have been that mad...”

“Mmm, and now he'll let Jaskier stick his tongue down his throat while Jaskier's knot deep in him, while I watch.” He brushed a few stray strands of sweaty hair from Lambert's face. “But enough about them. This is your night.” Geralt relaxed back onto the bed and let his knees fall open wider, an arched eyebrow inviting Lambert closer. “Come on in.”

And with that invitation, Lambert's cock slid in, almost automatically. It wasn't just Alphas who had deep rooted instincts to find an Omega's hole and make the most of it. Geralt pulled Lambert down on top of him, bearing his whole weight, tangling his fingers in his hair. He tilted his hips and Lambert moaned as he slid in deeper. “Fuck, you're so gods damn tight,” he panted.

“All for you tonight,” Geralt purred. “All for you.”

~

“You're in trouble,” Lambert singsonged as he passed by Eskel the next morning on the way to get breakfast.

The scarred man turned. “What? What are you talking about?” But Lambert would say no more. Eskel followed him for the rest of the day, getting the bard in on it too. They stood stupidly close as Lambert tried to finish his chores, ignoring their own work until Vesemir yelled at them and they finally scampered away.

They both arrived at Geralt's room that night stinking of anxiety. He took one sniff of them and glared at Lambert. “Why do you have to wind them up like that?” Geralt swept closer, bringing them both in and calming them with his Omega scent. “You're fine, I'm not angry.”

“But,” Jaskier mumbled into Geralt's shoulder.

“But, you and Eskel growled at each other during my heat. Lambert didn't pull you out like he's supposed to—he already learned his lesson and now it's your turn.” Geralt licked up Eskel's scar for a moment, blowing soft breaths through his hair before doing the same to Jaskier and pushing them away. “Take your clothes off.”

They all did as asked, of course they did. With the heavy scent of their Omega on the air, less than two weeks out of heat, trying to ignore his requests was harder than ripping off their own arms. Even Jaskier, who was good at ignoring his baser Alpha instincts, snapped to obey whatever request Geralt had for them.

Geralt let his breeches fall to the floor and crawled onto the bed, beckoning them forward. Before they climbed on the bed to join him, Geralt fisted a hand in their hair, holding them back. “I need you two to get along,” he whispered. “No matter what, I count on you. I can't have any growling or snapping or possessiveness.”

“We're sorry,” Jaskier breathed, his cock twitching, leaking precome onto Geralt's thigh.

“I know you are,” Geralt said. “But I'd like to see it too.” He pulled Eskel down a little more, close enough to drag his tongue over his throat. “I want to see what you two get up to when me and Lambert aren't there. I want to watch you let Jaskier fuck you. Alright?”

Eskel could say no. If he wanted what him and Jaskier did together to remain private, Geralt respected that. Even in the middle of his rut, if Jaskier was there, Eskel got a little cagey about accepting his affection. But this was something Geralt wanted to see—his last Alpha making himself so open and bare to another—and his newest Alpha appreciating the gift that trust showed. He stroked a finger down Eskel's cheek and waited for his answer. He'd wait all night if that's what Eskel needed.

Jaskier leaned over to whisper in Eskel's ear and Geralt tried not to listen in, he waited patiently, a hand on them both until they reached their decision. One of Eskel's thick arms snaked around Jaskier's hips and pulled him close. “Yes, Geralt, that's fine.”

Without another word, Jaskier hauled Eskel across the room, to the big squishy arm chair in front of Geralt's fire. It was ostensibly there for reading but was mostly used for lounging around and napping during heat, or when Geralt wanted to ride one of them and desired a change of scenery. Jaskier sat down and let Eskel settle onto his lap, back to Jaskier's chest. Longer fingers stroked over scarred skin as he kissed the back of Eskel's shoulders, making him tremble.

“Lambert,” Jaskier whispered, dragging his tongue up the back of Eskel's neck. “Can you fetch the oil from my bag, please?” Jaskier kept his sexual aids well organized and Lambert only had to open the side pocket of his travel pack to find it. He handed off the bottle and retreated to the bed where Geralt pulled him in, ready for the show.

Jaskier shifted his attention away from the bed and the rest of their pack and concentrated on Eskel. Yes, they'd fucked before, he'd even knotted Eskel once. It was an intense experience and he did not take the other Alpha's hesitance for cowardice. Being vulnerable in front of one's Omega was a scary fucking step to take, let alone with another Alpha in the room. But Jaskier wasn't just another Alpha, he was part of their pack, and Eskel trusted him.

He circled one finger around Eskel's hole and felt it tense up. He ran his free hand over his chest, down his thighs, brushing his cock, anything to relax Eskel again. “Don't think about me,” Jaskier whispered. “Look at Geralt. Do you love him?”

“Yes,” Eskel panted. He shifted a little and Jaskier's cock fell into the cleft of his ass, making him tighten up again.

“And he loves you,” Jaskier continued with the calming words, his finger merely circling, not intending to push in just yet. “He wants to see you happy, flush with pleasure. We're always so concerned about him, he wants to know your needs are met as well.” He relaxed a little, Jaskier kept massaging. “Look at Geralt. Think how happy it makes him to see me take care of you.”

Eskel took a deep breath and willed his body to relax. One foot on the floor, one knee planted on the chair next to Jaskier's legs, core tight, it was difficult to relax completely, but he managed. Jaskier added more oil to his fingers and slowly slipped inside, teasing and stretching, going as slow as Eskel needed.

The heat of Geralt's gaze on them, the way he bit his lip and concentrated on Eskel seemed to do the trick. He worked a third finger in and had Eskel moaning in no time, adding a forth just in case. Jaskier had no delusions about his cock—Geralt frequently remarked on how large it was for a human—and he didn't like to take risks with Eskel's body.

Pressing a small kiss to his back, he pulled his fingers out and urged Eskel down, steadying the base of his cock, he whispered, “Take as much as you like.”

With a deep grunt, Eskel started lowering himself down onto Jaskier's cock. Core tight, his muscles contracted a few times on the way down, but a soft, “Slow, slow...” and a soothing hand on his hip from Jaskier helped him through it. The loose skin of Jaskier's knot brushed the edge of his hole before Eskel lifted himself up again, taking it slow... slow enough to drive Jaskier crazy.

Since Eskel clearly had things in hand, Jaskier leaned his head forward and moaned. “Fuck, every year, I forget how good you are...”

“I'm more than just a pretty face,” Eskel chuckled, a little breathless from the hard work of fucking himself on Jaskier's cock.

Lambert, for his credit, stayed silent, letting the Alphas get lost in each other. Though Geralt petted his hair, he knew the White Wolf only had eyes for Eskel and Jaskier. It was fine, Lambert had his time with Geralt already, he enjoyed having the others back with them. He especially enjoyed watching pleasure flick across Eskel's face when Jaskier moved the right way, storing away some techniques for later, when Geralt was asleep and Eskel set upon Lambert in the wee hours of the morning.

Unfortunately, the tight squeeze of Eskel's ass was almost too much for him. Jaskier could barely concentrate on not thrusting with joyful abandon, let alone think about getting a hand around Eskel's cock. He tried to lick and suck at his back and shoulders, offering some stimulation, but he lost himself more than once, helpless to do anything except moan and grunt.

His knot started to fill and it teased Eskel's rim every time he came down. “Eskel,” Jaskier grunted. “Do you want my knot?” They'd done it both ways, but still Eskel had only taken Jaskier's knot once... the fist sized knot was formidable for anyone but an Omega, and Jaskier didn't begrudge him if he said no, but fuck, he did want to feel Eskel clenching around him, muscles upon muscles squeezing him until he blacked out from pleasure...

Eskel felt the push at his rim and thought for a moment. He looked up at Geralt, lips wet, eyes hungry, focused wholly on him... “Yes,” he rasped. “I want it.”

“Then take it.”

Jaskier managed to pour more oil across his knot before letting Eskel take over. Gripping heat settled around him and he tried not to whine, then whined anyway. Tighter than any Omega, Eskel's ass slowly clamped around Jaskier's knot. He wanted to howl, groan, and scream Eskel's virtues at the top of his lungs, but the intense grip around him stole the breath from his lungs. Jaskier was helpless to resist and came hard, filling Eskel again.

Given Jaskier's lack of coordination, Eskel was still hard and almost completely untouched. Tied together as they were for the moment, he made sure he was well seated before taking one hand off the arm of the chair and reaching for his cock. Before he touched himself, Lambert flew across the room and batted Eskel's hand away. With a quick look—checking to see if he was wanted—Lambert settled between his knees and took Eskel deep in his mouth, the head of his cock almost brushing the back of Lambert's throat.

The sudden surprise of Lambert fucking _there_ sucking his cock made Eskel jerk. Burying one hand in Lambert's hair, he came hard, clenching down on Jaskier's knot again. Lambert moaned at the come filling his mouth, Eskel moaned at the mouth around him, and Jaskier fucking keened at the tight grip of the ass around his knot. The three of them completely lost in pleasure, none of them noticed Geralt stand up and head over to them.

Lambert pulled off Eskel's cock and leaned back to find Geralt looming over them, the scent of his slick fragrant in the air. Normally, Jaskier's knot went down faster without an Omega nearby... but with Geralt's smell surrounding them all, they'd be tied together for twenty minutes or so. Orgasm long finished, he leaned his head against Eskel's back again. “We've got a good wait ahead of us.”

“Mmm,” Geralt mumbled. “Good.” He trailed his fingers across Eskel's face, through the drops of sweat from his hair, rolling down his neck. “Thank you for showing me that,” he whispered.

He knelt down between Eskel's legs and nodded for Lambert to get behind him. Fingers pressed inside him and Geralt moaned. Still, he only had eyes for Eskel. Lambert slipped inside him and Eskel leaned down, claiming Geralt's lips. Jaskier went back to spreading kisses along Eskel's back as they waited out his knot, all of them eager to get back to the bed where they could ravage Geralt together.

Jaskier's knot disappeared with Eskel leaned forward, kissing Geralt senseless. No longer locked together, Eskel fell forward gracelessly, Geralt and Lambert catching his fall. His cock quickly filled out and he started rutting against Geralt. “Yes,” Geralt growled, teeth scraping at Eskel's neck. “You can fuck me now.”

And just like that, Eskel grabbed Geralt and hauled him up onto the bed. Forcing his knees apart (Geralt's resistance was a token at best, more to get his Alpha riled up than anything else) his eyes went wide at the gush of slick spilling out. The lingering stretch from Jaskier's knot in him and the oil in his own ass was a surprising new layer of sensation. As he pushed into Geralt, wet and open and all but pulling him in, the pang of where Jaskier _was_ made his cock twitch and his ass clench.

He leaned down and sucked a bruise into Geralt's neck as his hips rolled. “I liked that—liked you watching me.”

“Good,” Geralt whispered back.

“Tomorrow... do you want Jaskier to finger me while I fuck into you?”

The broken moan and the hard clench of Geralt's ass answered for him. “Yes, fuck yes. Would you do that for me?” Geralt purred.

Eskel rubbed his face up Geralt's neck, covering himself in the scent of his Omega, their other Alpha's smell fresh on his skin. “I'd do anything for you.”

With Eskel and Geralt getting lost in each other once again, Lambert lay on the floor pouting. He at least thought he'd get in on the action while Jaskier recovered...

A foot nudged his shoulder and he looked up to see cool blue eyes gazing down at him from the arm chair. Leaning half across the arm, Jaskier looked a little drunk, but the fire in his eyes spelled out his intent. “I don't think I have another knot in me for a while,” Jaskier purred. “What do you say to some Alpha ass while we wait them out?”

Lambert's cock went from hard and definitely interested, to leaking on his own stomach in a matter of seconds. “That answer your question, little lark?” Jaskier tilted his head in invitation and Lambert scrambled up from the floor. He hooked his hands behind Jaskier's knees and pulled his ass to the edge of the chair before he even asked if this was actually being offered.

The head of his cock oh so close to Jaskier's hole, Lambert made himself stop. “Is this, uh, you want this?” He'd fingered Eskel before, and obviously Jaskier had done more... but the likelihood of a Beta getting a shot at an Alpha like _this_ was up there with Lambert having an Omega to begin with. Their lives were so different, from the wider world of human relationships, and from what their pack was supposed to be. They had to rewrite the rules so many times, Lambert was starting to think they didn't have rules anymore.

Jaskier pulled the bottle of oil out from under the cushion, handing it to Lambert. “I'll talk you through it,” he whispered.

Lambert licked his lips and took the oil with shaking fingers, the deep drive within him to please the rest of his pack making his brain start to whir. Alphas were tuned to Omegas, Omegas were tuned to Alphas, but Betas were tuned to _everyone_. What if he messed up? What if he hurt Jaskier? They just found him, if he got knocked out of commission and it was Lambert's fault...

A soft hand on the side of his face pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. “It's alright, you won't hurt me.” With a gentle hand on Lambert's cheek, anchoring him down, Jaskier stood up and sat Lambert in the chair, crawling into his lap. Kissing the pad of each finger, Jaskier took the oil back and liberally coated three, guiding Lambert's arm around him, resting on the plush swell of his ass. “Slide up and down until you feel—ah! Right there. One at a time.”

“I know this part,” Lambert said. The tip of his oily finger breached Jaskier's hole. Jaskier tilted his hips to get more and Lambert obliged, slipping a second finger beside it and pushing deeper. Lips kissed up his neck as a warm hand wrapped around and stroked his nape, making Lambert purr. He added a third finger and teeth scraped next to his adam's apple in encouragement.

“I'm ready,” Jaskier whispered. One day, Lambert looked forward to deciding when Jaskier was ready and tease the bard mercilessly, but for now he was willing to listen to greater knowledge. He dripped far more oil than necessary over Lambert's cock, devious smirk across his face. “I'm used to it nice and slick,” he countered. “You've felt Geralt.”

“Yes I have.”

Lambert put a steadying hand at the base of his cock like Jaskier told him to, and stayed very still while the bard lined them up. The first grip of that soft hole around him nearly stole Lambert's breath, somehow just as magnetic as an Omega. There was no deep pull in his gut, no biology calling Lambert to thrust in deep and fertilize, his mind didn't really know what to do and decided to fall apart instead.

He shook with the effort not to bury himself inside and Jaskier rewarded him with soft kisses up his neck. “You're doing so well.” Jaskier took his time getting into place, slowly lowering himself down until he felt Lambert's hair tickling him. “There,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, you're so thick, just like Eskel. How did I get so spoiled?”

Lambert almost choked on nothing. Fingers slippery with oil tried to grab Jaskier's hips to ground himself, sliding down the slope of his hips before he managed to get a hold. “S-sorry.”

The kisses were back, all over his neck, along his jaw and up his cheeks before circling back around to his lips. “Don't apologize, you're doing beautifully. Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes?” At the moment, Lambert was sure of only two things: that he had a lap full of Alpha, and that wasn't a thing that usually happened.

Jaskier chuckled and rested his hands on Lambert's shoulders, slowly raising himself back up. Muscles gripped around him and Lambert couldn't stop the deep groan pulled from his very soul. “Breathe,” Jaskier whispered against his lips, his Alpha scent surprisingly soothing. “Let me know when you're going to come.”

“I'm not already?” Lambert gasped, because it truly felt like every nerve in his body was filled with nothing but pleasure at the moment. Wherever Jaskier touched sparks flew along his skin, not just at his cock, but his neck and shoulders too. His slick hands on Jaskier's hips, and wherever the bard pressed his lips...

After a few more deep breaths, Lambert got himself together enough to thrust up. Jaskier moaned and he did it again, and again, pulling more sounds of pleasure from the human. With Geralt and Eskel, it was all grunts and moans, cries of “More, fuck me, harder,” and those were nice. Words like that spoke to the deep part of his soul that longed to please his pack. But Jaskier's soft coos and shocked little gasps stoked a different fire... It reminded him of Leo. Sex for the pleasure of it, not the need, or the demands of Geralt's body. Whether he was in heat or not, being close to Geralt always made Lambert default to his Omega's pleasure before his own.

And now here was this fucking Alpha—by far the oddest man they'd ever met—giving himself over for Lambert's pleasure, their Omega so close by, easily the more natural choice. But Jaskier chose him, and fuck if that wasn't a heady feeling.

It didn't take long for Jaskier's experienced body to pull Lambert over. He grabbed Jaskier's hips hard enough to bruise, but the soft kisses kept coming, swallowing his shouts until Lambert was shivery and overstimulated. He moved off and Lambert had just enough mental coordination to recognize the still hard cock in front of his face. Before Jaskier pulled away, he wrapped both hands around that plush ass and pulled him in.

After years with Eskel, Lambert knew his way around an Alpha cock and did his very best for Jaskier—tongue teasing his slit while one free hand stroked over his balls, taking him as deep as possible. Jaskier shook under his hands, already primed from their coupling, and the smell of ripe Omega in the room. Fingers clawed at his shoulders and Lambert felt his own seed leaking out of Jaskier's ass. He moaned around the cock in his mouth and Jaskier came with a shivery sigh.

Lambert had to catch him and pull Jaskier into his lap. Running his nose through sweaty hair, he smelled nothing but one hundred percent happy Alpha. “I owed you for such a good ride,” he said.

“And you sure delivered.”

Jaskier was all ready to fall asleep in Lambert's lap when a voice from the bed called them over. “Hey,” Geralt whispered. Sleepy eyes peered at their Omega, still knotted together with Eskel, but just as sated as they were. “Come here. My bed feels empty without you.”

Rousing themselves, Jaskier and Lambert curled in the bed around Geralt and Eskel, completing their pack once more. Because that's how they always wanted it to be. After so long with only Eskel to quell Geralt's heat, Lambert there to keep him from dying, Jaskier brought a new spark to their lives. They were no longer just surviving together, they were thriving. The pack was stronger than ever, and as they all fell asleep that night tangled in each other's arms, they knew the Wolves of Kaer Morhen would continue to survive the trials of the world.

The End


End file.
